


this was a mistake

by s1nn3r



Category: Brain Dump - Fandom
Genre: Gb is a dumbass, Human form goofball, M/M, Mutual Masturbation, Oneshot, Sexual Content, alr time for actual tags, fuck my pride, im so sorry, im writing about a god damn bald guy and his ghost roomate, max has a slight pain kink, max if ur for SOME reason reading this, max is a horny dumbass, so of course i had to slide in on ao3, the only stories on these two were shitty wattpads, theyre both idiots, wouldn’t call him masochistic but, yep we're doing this
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-17
Updated: 2021-02-17
Packaged: 2021-03-12 02:42:35
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,106
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29502879
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/s1nn3r/pseuds/s1nn3r
Summary: In which Goofball wants to explore his human form, and Max hears him through the bathroom walls.I’m not sorry.
Relationships: Max G/Goofball "Golfball" The Goofy Cartoon Ghost America's Most Beloved Cartoon Mascot
Comments: 1
Kudos: 2





	this was a mistake

if any of you weirdos need something physical for visualization (i dont judge), i stan this adaptation by @ssskullie on twitter.  


-

" What's the happs', creepazoid? "

" We- . . . elllll- " Max drew out, originally intending to ask the simple phrase 'Well?', but a look of slight awestruck played his face as the humanoid figure descended through his roof. " What in the hell /are/ you- " 

Goofball looked down at himself as if he had no clue what the other was talking about. The usually small, dorky looking ghost now had a humanoid stature, his slightly transparent and blue tint still prevalent. He confidentially displayed a thin but flattering frame, adorned by a sweater that was a league bigger than him paired with slightly ripped jeans, a white sock with the other counterpart apparently missing, black painted nails, and atop of his head a simple beanie with tuffs of hair sticking out every which way.

" Oh, that! Y'see, I figured any creeps walking down the street would have a heart attack seein' a random ghost flying about, so I figured I'd take a more human form to fit in better. "

Max blinked.

" Goofball, they're still gonna be freaked out by some blue-skinned teen flying into the damn SUN. " Max said calmly, but irritated nonetheless. Goofball simply shrugged, placing his hands on his hips casually as he floated off the ground. Funnily enough, with having the ability to chose literally any form, Goofball was still extremely short compared to Max. The bald creep seemed to be waiting for something.

" Well? " He finally spoke up, correcting his failed question from earlier.

" Well, what? " Goofball replied casually, his cocky expression shifting into one of confusion as his arms dropped to his sides.

" WHAT DID YOU /SEE/-? " Max practically screamed back, arms thrusted into the air and visibly shaking with anger as his left eye twitched.

" OHHHH, Right, uh, there's no such thing as space. "

“ what.”

.  
.  
.

Max laid tiredly on the couch, sitting so far back that he was practically laying on the cushion itself, mindlessly 'watching' the late night Cowboys n' Indians show on at the moment, which actually meant starring at the dry wall with the show in the background. He let out a small sigh, reaching for a glass of whiskey displayed on the coffee table in front of himself, a wet ring of condensation formed on the table's surface as the cup left it. The male raised the glass to his lips, taking a long sip from the alcohol content. He brought it away from his face, but didn't put it down just yet, simply swishing the liquid around in the glass via shaking the cup in tiny circles. He was content, sure, he was a lonely bald man surrounded by children's action figures and warrior cat books, back hurting because a cartoon ghost tricked him into falling out of a tree, but he was content. Besides the constant droning on of the TV, it was quiet, and relatively easy to relax so l- 

" Heya creep. " The voice came from directly above Max, causing the male to jump a yard, dropping the glass in the process as it bumped against the carpeted floor and effectively spilt under him. 

" GOD DAMNIT GOOFBALL- " Max shouted, shifting so that he could properly sit in the chair and avoid the mess below him. He tilted his head up to glare at the ghost, yet was met with the same humanoid form he saw earlier. Inky sockets met slate iris, and a silence lingered in the air for a good few seconds as the original glare softened into an annoyed expression. 

" You're STILL in that stupid human body?! " He continued, volume lower than before as the other shrugged once more.

" Eh, It's surprisingly neat actually. Haven't really felt this comfortable since before I died. I still miss my 5'6 body.. " Goofball went on.

" Yeah, I still don't believe you're black and 5'6. " Max retorted, thoroughly annoyed with the other's lackluster response and the growing stain on the carpet.

" I don't care what you think, creep. " The ghost-boy responded.

Max groaned, standing and walking into the kitchen. The tiles under his bare feet compared to the carpet was stupid cold, but he was more focused on cleaning the carpet then cold toes. He returned with a bunch of paper-towels, kneeling and doing what he could to the rug, giving up halfway despite a very obvious stain remaining in the carpet no matter how hard Max scrubbed.

" I wonder if this new form has all of the fix-ins, like, could I grow my hair out? "

" Why are you asking me, I don't care. Do what you want. " Max replied, ultimately ignoring the stain on the floor. 

" Hm, I wonder if everything checks out, especially downst- "

" Nope. Stop right there. I don't wanna know. " The bald male cut off, waving his hand in a dismissive way as he stood up, stepping over the stain and walking to the hallway leading to his room.

" Going to bed already? It's only 12:32 " Golfball called after the other. Sure, it was late, but Max was the type to stay up until the early hours due to being a dorky man child. 

" Yeah, I've got a massive headache due to a selfish prick I know, y'heard of him? " Max yelled over the other.

...

" Ya didn't switch Burnbot. " Goofball yelled after Max, causing Max to groan loudly, followed by a door slam coming from the older male's room. Goofball rolled his eyes comically, the cartoonish sound effects cutting through the silence in the air. He floated over to the TV waifu, saying a quick goodnight before shifting the electronic into sleep mode, her artificial heart beat playing through a heart monitor splash screen. The faded green tint of light coming from Burnbot was the only thing that lit up the room, and Golfball decided he was too tired to stay up, but a tad too tired to head to bed just yet. He figured he'd relax in his 'room', which was really just one of Max's old storage rooms formed into a shitty guest room via a makeshift bed using pillows and sheets and a few movie posters. Sure he was dead, but the ghost still had standards. The only real complaint he had about the living quarters was the fact is was directly next to the bathroom, which was annoying whenever his roommate had to use it because of how thin the walls were. The lack of a window or proper light source was a complaint too, but a ghost can’t be /too/ picky living rent free. He didn't care much otherwise, for he was more focused on sliding onto the 'mattress' and /trying/ to rest.

-

Max groaned as he turned to his side, the thin sheets over him feeling way too hot, but every time he'd kick them off, the chill of the room would draw them right back over himself. The male was already in his boxers and Weenie Hut Jr's weenie pride t-shirt, so there wasn't much else he could do clothing wise. He grumbled, sitting up in the bed, drenched in a cold sweat. The clock beside him read 2:26 am, meaning he had been tossing about for nearly 2 hours. He decided he'd further drink himself into a coma, as it was the easiest substitute to melatonin he could think of because, of course, whenever he specifically needs something, it's never there. Swinging his legs off the side of the bed and his joints audibly cracking as he stood, he opened his door and trudged slowly to the bathroom. Shutting the door quietly, he opened the glass door cupboard, where a single bottle of half empty store-brand whiskey was always kept. He sighed, popping the alcohol-crusted over lid off the bottle and pressing his back against the wall. It was only a couple gulps until the entire bottle was gone, and Max had slid down onto the floor overtime. 

Where had he gone wrong?

He's sitting here on the dirty bathroom floor of a cheap, haunted house. Living with a ghost, single, getting old, bald. He should be out living his best life while he was still relatively young. Instead, he was laying on the ground, drinking himself away slowly. He hummed at the remaining burn of the alcohol sliding down his throat, leaning his head back into the dry-wall. He was taking deep breaths, letting the numbness of the liquor wash over him before a small, almost inaudible groan sounded. He blinked, looking around the bathroom. Weird, there wasn't nearly enough in that whiskey bottle to have him start hallucinating weird noises, but as soon as he chalked it up to his imagination, another one was heard. Except, more,,, breathy. A moan, almost. This time, he knew exactly where it was coming from. It sounded from behind him, through the wall, and from another room.

Goofball's room.

" You have /got/ to be shitting me. " Max mumbled under his breath, lacing a hand over his forehead in frustration. More moans inevitably followed, and Max never wanted to shoot himself more. He knew that human form was a god damn mistake, he should've told the other to change back. Then again, he probably wouldn't have listened. He grumbled, heavily annoyed, but didn't move from the wall. Whilst he absolutely hated admitting it, he couldn’t deny that those high pitched moans were going straight to his dick, and eventually the position of his knees crunched to his chest became a tad too uncomfortable for obvious reason. He cursed how pathetic he was at times, separating his knees and spreading out on the ground before he shamefully cupped himself from the outside of his boxers. He hummed slightly, copping the back of his hand over his mouth to silence himself. He was going to /murder/ Goofball in the morning. Even with the thin fabric blocking full access, the other's moaning from the other room and the pure heat, partly from the numbness of his body, was near euphoric in that moment. Hating himself, he shifted slightly as he ran his palms down his sides, thighs, and eventually pulled the boxers down with his thumbs. He groaned when the cool air hit his now bare cock, returning good ol' righty to his length and giving a tender few strokes as he pressed back into the wall, listening as Gb's moans escalated in the other room. What was he /doing/ in there? A few undesired thoughts immediately flooded into his mind, considering what the ghost had said earlier. About, ‘exploring’. Max let out a shiver at the thought of a nude, humanoid Goofball jacking it, feeling a ‘second’ heartbeat pulsing through him all the while. He brought his right hand to his mouth, swiping a few digits over his tongue to provide lubrication, now easily sliding his hand up and down his twitching cock. Since when was he so, needy? He was sitting here on a grimy rug, stroking himself to the sounds of his roommate unknowingly returning the action.He knew he’d regret this in mere moments, and tried to focus on the pleasure as oppose to the other in earshot. 

It wasn’t a successful attempt.

.  
.  
.

Max had been holding himself back for a while now, painfully edging while he ate up the others delicious moans. He gave up on holding the shreds of his dignity together, quietly moaning as the hand that was once clutching his mouth shut was digging his own dull nails into his thigh for a rush of periodic pain. It was pure ecstasy, he let the lewd images of the other come and go as time past, scenarios of watching the other squirm under him wasn’t unusual in this moment. It wasn’t long before Max couldn’t hold on any longer, tipping over the built up edge and shooting cum across himself with a breathy collage of moans, white pearly essence decorating his t-shirt and naval. The silence that followed was soon broken by a single,

“ ..Creep? “

Max nearly screamed, quickly standing and grabbing the closest towel to him to clean up, pulling his boxers up and rushing out of the bathroom. He didn’t look back once as he scurried to his room, slipping into the bed with full realization and mortifying guilt washing over him. Despite the pool of self loathing and wonder of how he was going to explain this tommorow, he felt a bit too tired to give it any more thought at the moment. Max soon drifted off to a relaxed state of sleep, the corners of his mouth curled upwards sinfully.

**Author's Note:**

> Hm, first time actually publishing any form of smut. Lmk if you want any other stories, open to suggestion especially with these two.


End file.
